First Time
by nancy fan
Summary: There's a first time for everything. The night everything changes for Quinn. Set a few weeks prior to the pilot episode. Part 2 of 2
1. Chapter 1

**This is my attempt at writing the infamous night when Puck and Quinn got together. Enjoy:)**

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One of the hardest things in life is watching the person you love, love someone else - Unknown

It was so hot; almost unbearably so. Sprawled out on the lush expanse of grass spread out in front of McKinley High, the girls had abandoned their usual shirts for skimpy halternecks, their long tanned legs peeking out from beneath equally tiny skirts. A bottle of water gripped shakily in her hand, Quinn was completely unable to concentrate on Santana's bitchy gossip concerning a supposedly pregnant senior, such was her dismay at the score she had received on her Chemistry test. _A B minus_. Not even a B, she considered dismally, feeling nauseous at the thought of having to break the news to her father. Russell Fabray would freak out, she knew, he would blame Finn, blame Ms. Adams, her Chemistry teacher, blame the time she spent turning cartwheels and performing handstands for the Cheerios, anything but put the blame on his precious Quinny. Long cast in the role as the perfect daughter, Quinn was well aware that that prestige came with certain expectations; being president of the celibacy club for one. There were advantages of course; Quinn was always dressed in the best and most expensive of clothes and her brand new, red convertible was without a doubt, the hottest car in the school parking lot.

Finn hadn't understood, Quinn considered unhappily, sprawled out on her back so her blonde hair splayed out like a golden halo around her head. He had seen the humiliating mark scrawled in angry red across the top of her test paper and he had shrugged dismissively like it was nothing, like it wasn't going to drag her GPA down in embarrassingly giant proportions. But then, Finn didn't need to understand; his coveted position as star quarterback of the football team meant that he could walk onto whatever college campus he so desired. It didn't matter that his grades rarely averaged above a C or that he could barely manage the basic concepts of algebra.

"You're coming to Brittany's house tonight, right? Her mom is away for the weekend and she's having a party," Santana informed her excitedly, a wicked glint dancing in her brown eyes.

"A party?" Quinn echoed uncertainly, shielding her eyes from the cruel glare of the sun. Determined to right the obviously unjustified B minus, Quinn had arranged with Ms. Adams to earn some extra credit by writing a paper on thermodynamics. A vodka fueled hangover, the inevitable result from a night partying with the Cheerios, would not make completing the already dreaded task any easier.

"Yeah, a party," Santana reiterated dully, gazing at Quinn as though she had inexplicably grown two heads. "What's up with you lately, Quinn? You used to be fun. Now it's all about Finn and school and the Celibacy Club. You need to chill out, girl,"

"You need to have some vodka cocktails," Brittany chimed in giddily, her wide smile displaying her pearly white teeth to perfection. "My mom has a shit load of drink locked away in the spare room. She thinks, I don't know," the blonde revealed deviously, as she triumphantly produced a silver key from the deepest recesses of her hot-pink backpack.

"It does sound like fun," Quinn relented reluctantly, a night spent working on a Chem paper coming up pretty poor on the trade off between a night spent indulging in drunken partying with her friends. "Who's coming?" she asked casually, already deliberating between wearing a decidedly flimsy blue miniskirt or the altogether more wholesome white cotton dress.

"The usual," Brittany replied blithely, the usual referring to the elite few, chosen from the lofty ranks of the Cheerios and the football team.

Finn would be there, Quinn realized and she immediately decided on the white. _She didn't want to be giving him any ideas. _

"Okay, guys, you've got me convinced," Quinn declared brightly, her words immediately followed by an enthused cheer from both Brittany and Santana. "What time do we start?"

--

Her blonde hair trailing in loose waves down her back, Quinn shifted on the sofa awkwardly as she made room for Finn to sit beside her. Predictably, Finn had drunk too much, four cans of beer capable of rendering him completely incapacitated and already he was slurring, talking absolute crap while Quinn was fighting to keep his hand from creeping any further along her bare thigh.

She felt heavy and uncomfortable in the plain white dress, and suddenly wished she had opted for the dangerously short blue minidress, which would have commanded every eye at the party. Like Santana was doing, Quinn realized unhappily, watching her friend flirt outrageously with Puck, her ridiculously short skirt, exposing acres of tanned, leaned flesh and guaranteeing her the football player's undivided attention.

Weighing herself that morning, Quinn had made the unhappy discovery that she had gained two pounds. A whole two pounds and her period wasn't even due, Quinn considered ruefully, pulling the white material of her dress self-consciously down over her knee. Though she knew she was bring irrational, Quinn now felt fat and unattractive and even worse, she was positive she had caught Finn gazing appreciatively at Brittany when he had thought his girlfriend wasn't looking.

"Quit it, Finn," Quinn hissed at her boyfriend in warning, as his hand snaked down the front of her dress and cupped the delicate lace of her bra.

Finn always did test the boundaries of their relationship, especially when he was drunk.

"You never let me do anything," Finn moaned in annoyance, though he did at least withdraw the offending hand.

Understanding from Judy, that compromise was important in a relationship, Quinn leaned in close and pressed her lips against Finn's, kissing him softly. Her blonde hair freshly washed and some expensive perfume liberally dabbed on her neck, Quinn knew she was enticing and trailing her fingers absently down her boyfriend's well muscled chest, it wasn't long before his sour mood had evaporated and in it's place was a much more agreeable Finn.

"See, I'm not so bad," Quinn murmured teasingly, pressing her lips to his one last time before pulling reluctantly away.

"Hey, where are you going?" Finn demanded, though his words were garbled and confused and the hand still clutching onto her arm was surprisingly strong. Pulling Quinn close to him, Finn pressed his lips to hers again but this time there was an edge of almost desperation to his actions. The hand wrapped around her waist was definitely edging lower and lower until it was almost cupping her ass and being drawn ever closer into his embrace, Quinn was certain she could feel the outline of his erection brushing against her leg. This was altogether too much.

"What the hell, Finn?" Quinn demanded angrily, immediately pulling free from his strong embrace, though inwardly she knew Finn couldn't help it.

Stalking out of the darkened living room, she was almost relieved when Finn didn't bother to follow her out.

--

The floor sticky with spilt drink and abandoned, half-drunk plastic containers of beer perched on every available surface, the kitchen was a mess. Music blared at an incredible level out of the stereo system and Quinn was surprised that the neighbors had not yet complained. Girls standing on chairs and tables, danced unsteadily, their drinks clutched possessively in their hands and the guys looked on, enthralled, the girls' skimpy dresses displaying their toned, tanned bodies to their best advantage.

"Quinn," Brittany welcomed her brightly, immediately passing a container of something pink and strong smelling into her hands. "It's a Cosmopolitan," she informed with an encouraging smile, taking a long swig from her own drink. "Try it,"

Taking a hesitant sip from the drink, Quinn's spluttered in protest as the vodka concoction burned down her throat. "Fuck, Brittany. Are you trying to give me alcohol poisoning or something," she retorted, pushing the drink pointedly away.

"Don't mind her, Brittany," Santana cut in jokingly, smoothing a hand carefully over her perfectly positioned dark pony tail. "Quinn's just not drunk enough yet,"

"True," Quinn agreed with a wry smile, a quick survey of the cramped kitchen testifying to the fact that she was, without a doubt, the only sober person in the room. "But then, I've spent the night trying to keep Finn from practically impregnating me on Brittany's living room sofa,"

"A definite case of TMI, Quinn," Santana shot back disapprovingly as she took a delicate drink from her plastic cup. "Some of us don't want to know the dirty details of your relationship with Finn,"

"I do," Puck chimed in with a lecherous grin, earning him a withering look from Quinn and exasperated sighs from both Santana and Brittany. "What? Quinn is hot," he retorted defensively, gesturing in explanation to the blonde cheerleader.

Though Puck was a sexist pig, he could be a very charming sexist pig and Quinn smiled inwardly as she tucked a length of blonde hair self-consciously behind her ear.

"If you want something to drink, you can have one of these," he offered her with a friendly wink, reaching on the table for a six pack of wine coolers. "I got them from my mom," he revealed with a shrug, obviously keen to dissuade any implication that he would have purchased such a ridiculously girly drink for himself. Noah Puckerman had a reputation to protect.

"Thanks, Puck," Quinn smiled gratefully, accepting a bottle of the wine cooler before turning back to her friends with an excited little skip. The night was going to be fun; she was sure of it.

--

Two hours later and Quinn's head was spinning, the pristine white of her dress splattered liberally with split wine. Beside her, Brittany was chattering excitedly about some guy she was crushing on and Santana was already wrapped around Mike, the pair eagerly becoming acquainted with one another, completely unmindful of their audience. Her brain so clouded and confused by the effects of the alcohol, Quinn could barely understand what Brittany was saying and making a swift decision, she pushed open the backdoor and stepped outside into the cool of the night.

It was a beautiful night, the inky-black sky aglow with millions of twinkling stars. Shakily taking a seat on the creaking swing, Quinn closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of the cool air creeping over her skin, when she felt someone squeeze in beside her. Her blue eyes popping open in surprise, Quinn felt a small smile creep across her face when she made sense of Puck's handsome face gazing at her appreciatively.

"Puck," she exclaimed curiously, pushing her blonde hair out of her face, the ends sticky with drink. "What are you doing out here?"

"Having a smoke," he shrugged lightly, though there was no evidence of the smoldering remains of a cigarette on the porch. "Where's Finn?"

"Passed out upstairs as usual," Quinn snorted disapprovingly, though she didn't refuse him when Puck passed her his container of beer.

His fingers grazed against hers and Quinn's heart thumped furiously in response. Puck always did have that effect on her. They'd kissed once, way back when she was twelve and her blonde hair was so long, it almost touched the waistband of her jeans when she sat down.

The beer was warm and flat but Quinn gulped it down nervously, both thrilled and uneasy by the feeling she got when she felt Puck's green eyes sweep over the length of her when he thought she wasn't looking.

The frenzied sounds of the party drifted out onto the porch but Quinn hardly heard them, so absorbed she was in the delicious feeling of Puck's hand pressed against her bare knee.

"You want some more," Puck offered, stretching out his hand lazily and passing her the now almost empty plastic container. His fingers lingered traitorously on her arm but Quinn didn't pull away, she just sat there transfixed, mesmerized by the warmth of his touch.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," she finally brought herself to answer him, suddenly grateful for the darkness that concealed the blush that was glowing on her cheeks.

_Fuck, she was drunker than she thought, _Quinn realized shakily, making a start to step up off the ancient swing, when she felt Puck's hand close slowly around hers.

"You know, I've always liked you, Quinn," he revealed in an endearingly self-conscious tone, that was so unlike Puck, who always seemed so assured and in control of himself. "I felt sick when Finn told me you two were dating,"

Quinn knew she should go back into the house, find Brittany and Santana and allow them to drag her up dancing with the other drunken Cheerios on the tables. Instead, she found herself gazing into Puck's green eyes and straying into thoroughly forbidden territory. "Why do you care?" she asked, barely breathing as she waited for a response.

"Because I wanted to be the one who got to be with you, who got to take you to the movies and kiss you, like this," he murmured and then his lips were on hers and his touch was so gentle and so full of longing, that Quinn felt utterly spellbound as she melted into his kiss.

"Give me a chance," he murmured and Quinn couldn't find the words to formulate a response. Allowing Puck to take her hand and pull her up gently onto feet, Quinn felt dazed as she followed him into the garden, the grass cool under her bare feet as they ran hands entwined to the waiting sanctuary of the white-painted summer house.


	2. Chapter 2

**I changed the rating to M as I felt the sexual content involved was possibly a little too explicit to rate as a T story.**

**Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys! Feedback is appreciated:)**

The white-painted door of the faded summer house slammed impatiently behind them, Puck immediately pushed Quinn against the wall, his lips finding hers and kissing her deeply. There was so much longing and desperation in his actions that Quinn couldn't help but respond eagerly, sighing in pleasure, as he pinned her hands against the wall and trailed kisses down her neck. Puck's tongue was hot and wet and the graze of his stubble against the highly sensitized skin sent shivers racing down her spine. Finn's hands were always clumsy and awkward when they made out but with Puck it was different. His fingers trailed expertly over her skin and his mere touch was enough to reduce Quinn to a quivering mess.

"You're so beautiful," Puck murmured longingly, cupping Quinn's face in his hands and kissing her softly.

The soulful look in Puck's brown eyes was enough to render Quinn breathless for a moment, enough to make her forget that it was Noah Puckerman's fingers and not Finn's, that were entangled in her golden blonde hair and his lips that were pressed so gently against hers.

"I've wanted you for so long," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear as Puck pushed the strap of her sundress down and started to run his tongue along the sharp edge of her collar bone.

Her entire body trembling with desire, Quinn exhaled a shaky breath as Puck reached for the zipper of her dress and pulled it slowly and deliberately down, her heart pounding nervously with his every tug. The dress falling lightly to the floor, Quinn stood self-consciously in front of Puck, feeling exposed and vulnerable in her semi-naked state.

Thank God, she'd chosen matching underwear, Quinn considered gratefully, running a hand nervously over her pale-pink bra. Seeing Quinn, standing so self-consciously in front of him, did something to Puck and trailing a finger longingly down her cheek, he just stared at her, his brown eyes hungrily devouring her every curve.

The weight of his gaze on her was unnerving but Quinn couldn't make herself pull away.

"Come here," Puck commanded her with an enticing smile before gently taking her hand and leading Quinn to a faded, threadbare sofa that was shoved into a corner of the room.

The summer house was old and stale-smelling, crammed with unwanted remnants of Brittany's life. There were boxes of dolls that Quinn recognized, their blonde hair tied into clumsy plaits and left abandoned on the dusty floor. There were books too, their covers tattered and torn and heaped in untidy piles on a rickety shelf. As six-and-seven-year-olds, the ancient summer house had served as a sanctuary of sorts for Quinn and Brittany, the matching golden-haired children spending hours inventing games for their dolls and hosting tea-parties for their teddy bears. It felt strange to be here now, wrong as though she was violating her very childhood by drawing Puck into the ancient cabin.

Pulling her down beside him on the old, faded sofa, Puck's hands strayed immediately to her bra and feeling his fingers working expertly on the clasp, Quinn pulled away uncertainly as though she had only realized now, the true intentions of his actions.

"What are you doing, Puck?" she asked nervously, standing with her hands wrapped protectively around her bare skin and staring at him with betrayal shining in her eyes. "I thought you liked me, respected me,"

"I do," Puck retorted emphatically and Quinn could see the hurt expression on his face at her cruel accusation.

Inwardly she felt like a fool. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the white of her dress bundled in an untidy heap on the ground and her underwear was delicate and revealing, designed to tease and titillate. She had brought Puck here and had allowed him to pull off her clothes. What the hell did she think was going to happen?

Running a hand shakily over the tangled lengths of her blonde hair, Quinn exhaled a nervous breath as she forced herself to resume her place alongside Puck.

"I'm sorry, Puck," she murmured, forcing her gaze to meet his as she swallowed nervously. "I didn't mean to be such a bitch, it's just I haven't done anything like this before with Finn,"

"You mean you're a virgin," Puck prompted her in surprise, sudden understanding dawning in his eyes as Quinn nodded slowly in response.

"We won't do anything more than you're comfortable with, okay?" Puck murmured reassuringly as he traced a finger gently along her cheek before drawing her close for a tender kiss. "Just tell me to stop and I will. I swear," he added sincerely, Quinn closing her eyes in exaltation as he trailed hot kisses along her neck.

The kiss that had started out sweet and tender, Puck's fingers entangled in her long, blonde hair, quickly became more heated. Perched on his lap, her long, tanned legs, splayed revealing over his thighs, Quinn returned his advances longingly, practically moaning in pleasure as he ran his fingers softly along her inner thigh and darting away at the last second, his hand brushing teasingly against the delicate fabric of her panties.

"God, you're amazing, Quinn," Puck whispered softly against her lips and the way he was touching her felt so good, that Quinn didn't protest, didn't pull away, when he edged his fingers under the sheer material of her bra and explored her small, pert breasts eagerly.

That territory had been completely out of bounds for Finn; Quinn having ignored her boyfriend for an entire week once, when he'd had the audacity to slip his hand beneath the pink silk of her bra.

With Puck it was different. He was gentler somehow, more in control and every time his fingers strayed daringly towards the lace edged waistband of her panties, Quinn almost wished he'd be less hesitant and trespass beneath the smooth material.

"It's okay," she whispered encouragingly, taking his hand and leading it determinedly to the soft silk of her panties. The rational part of Quinn was screaming at her, wondering what the hell she was doing but Puck's touch was hypnotic as was the effect the ridiculous mix of alcohol was having on her head.

"Are you sure, Quinn?" he asked uncertainly, pulling away momentarily from their embrace and resting his hand on her cheek. "Because we don't need to do this. Not that I don't want to," he added with a cheeky grin, that made Quinn feel warm inside.

"Positive," Quinn smiled shakily, twisting her hands nervously in her lap as Puck leaned in and kissed her. Closing her eyes, Quinn luxuriated in his touch, her every sense coming alive as he grazed a hand lightly over her skin.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured appreciatively, letting his gaze roam hungrily over the expanse of tanned, gleaming skin before reaching behind her back and expertly unhooking her bra.

Quinn's breath caught in her throat as he pulled off her bra, exposing her bare breasts, her nipples hardened by the sweetness of Puck's touch.

"Fuck, you have the most perfect breasts," he murmured enthralled, Quinn's heart thumping violently as he cupped one of her breasts gently in his hand and ran his tongue over her nipple lightly. "I could do this all day for the rest of my life and not get bored," Puck declared with such utter sincerity in his voice that Quinn couldn't help but laugh nervously.

Silenced by his lips pressed softly against hers, Puck pushed Quinn down onto the sofa, his fingers tracing lazily over her skin.

"Are you sure about this, Quinn?" he demanded again, though his hands lingered longingly on her ass, his fingers straying experimentally beneath the cool silk.

"I'm sure," Quinn insisted with carefully widened eyes, feeling suddenly terrified and needing Puck to take charge before she lost her nerve.

Curving a finger around the waistband of her rose-pink panties, Puck tugged them slowly and deliberately off before tossing them eagerly onto the floor.

--

Waking up hungover and miserable, Quinn rubbed a hand wearily over her sleep scrunched face, her blue eyes immediately shutting in protest at the impossibly bright sun that seared in through the curtainless windows. She became slowly aware of a presence beside her and turning over forlornly in the bed, Quinn's stomach knotted unhappily when her brain made sense of Puck, slumbering contentedly beside her, his arm draped lightly across her stomach.

_What the fuck,_ she wondered panicking, her distress only growing when she realized she was completely naked beneath a worn, woolen blanket, the itchy material rubbing uncomfortably against her skin.

_What had she done?_

Whenever Santana and Brittany had filled her in knowingly on the intimate details of their trysts with the various members of the football team, Quinn would listen to their stories with rapt attentiveness. Inwardly, though, she would be smiling, smug that she was better than them, that she respected herself more than just throwing herself at the first guy that got her drunk on cheap beer and tossed an interested glance her way.

_Not anymore. _

Her head throbbed furiously and turning over carefully on the narrow sofa so as not to wake Puck, Quinn tried in vain to snatch together whatever recollections of the night she could glean. They were vague, hazy but the memory of Puck ripping off her dress and her underwear was frighteningly clear. As was the memory of what came after that.

_Fuck, she had to get out of here._

Consumed by sheer panic, Quinn disentangled herself carefully from Puck's arms before rummaging frantically on the dust-strewn floor for her clothes. Tugging the crumpled white dress over her head, Quinn was just reaching for her silver sandals, when she heard Puck shift his weight unhappily on the creaking sofa.

"So it's like that, huh?" Puck mumbled sleepily, gazing at Quinn through painfully slitted eyes as she hastily dragged a comb through her sleep tangled hair.

Frozen, Quinn's stomach plummeted as she forced herself to turn around and look at Puck.

"How else did you think it would be?" she shrugged sadly, regarding Puck guiltily as tied her blonde hair into a neat ponytail. "Finn's your best friend, I'm his girlfriend. What other end could there possibly be?"

There was silence after that, Quinn busying herself with blusher and mascara in a bid to make herself presentable to her parents, while Puck just stared forlornly ahead, though his eyes followed her every movement.

"You know, I meant what I said last night, Quinn," Puck mumbled, his voice finally breaking the painful silence.

"I know," Quinn smiled wistfully, pressing her lips softly to his cheek before quietly stepping out into the waiting sunshine, never once looking back.

--

The day was glorious, all blue skies and sunny temperatures and Judy Fabray had arranged to have dinner served on the deck, the table immaculately spread with the best china and silver.

"It's perfect, honey" Russell Fabray declared heartily, taking a bite from his medium-rare fillet steak and smiling broadly. "What did I do to deserve such a wonderful wife?"

Judy's answering tinkle of laughter was normally endearing but today it grated on Quinn's nerves, her stomach rolling unpleasantly as she forced herself to hesitantly cut into her steak.

"Is your dinner okay, Quinn?" her mother demanded worriedly, evidently recognizing the nauseous look on her daughter's face.

"It's lovely, Mom," Quinn lied unhappily, swallowing heavily before forcing herself to take a delicate bite from her steak. "Don't mind me, I just had a really big lunch at school,"

"If you say so," Judy retorted suspiciously, though the way she regarded her daughter warily, told Quinn that she wasn't entirely satisfied with her answer.

Faking an overly bright smile for the benefit of her mother, Quinn cut into the steak again, her stomach churning as the oily juices of the meat flowed liberally onto her plate, staining her mashed potato a hideous red.

Unable to maintain the charade any longer, Quinn pushed her chair back hurriedly and rushed away from the table, her hand clamped securely over her mouth.

Ten minutes later and Quinn lay hunched miserably over the toilet, the contents of her stomach sprayed liberally across the lawn outside.

Her mother had knocked on the door twice, wondering if she was okay and twice Quinn had weakly proclaimed that she was fine, terrified her mother would drag her down to Dr. Harmon's office for a quick check-up.

Reaching for her bag, Quinn wearily rummaged through the untidy jumble of hair brushes and loose coins and swallowed nervously, when her hand brushed against the smooth, rectangular box. She couldn't fool herself any longer that her period was three weeks late due to a stressful chem test or that she had thrown up for the tenth morning in a row because of a bad breakfast burrito.

_It was time. _

Meticulously following the directions printed on the folded insert, Quinn placed the plastic stick carefully on the sink and clenching her eyes shut, waited nervously for the result.


End file.
